


Up the frozen path, between the mountains

by Officer_Jennie



Series: Tobirama in Mythology [8]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28509315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Officer_Jennie/pseuds/Officer_Jennie
Summary: A story I never finished for a friend who will never see it
Relationships: Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara
Series: Tobirama in Mythology [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1173098
Comments: 11
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A story I never finished for a friend who will never see it

The trail had run cold miles back. 

Well, Madara could hardly call one old geezer’s word-of-mouth a trail, but he was putting his foot down on it running cold either way. He had to pull his traveler’s cloak tight around him, shivering against the chill that bit at his cheeks, cursing whatever fool’s errand had taken Izuna so far north and away from their village. 

Something to do with metal work, rumors on how to heat a forge beyond typical skill if he remembered correctly. But two months of absence and a lifetime worth of fretting stood between him and that early morning conversation, making it impossible to know for sure what had caught his brother’s attention enough for him to set off on foot out of the country. 

Snow was nothing new to him. Dealing with literal feet of it was, making his progress slow as his mind tried to lock up and quit on him. He’d only managed a few hours of travel and already it was getting too dangerous to continue. Swearing wasn’t likely to keep him warm but it kept him from wasting energy in more violent ways, shoving his fists under his arms as he started keeping an eye out for a good enough place to start a fire. 

A bit more luck than expected was on his side. It wasn’t a cave or shallow patch of snow that caught his attention but a curl of grey in the distance, smoke signaling a potential break that he desperately needed so far out of his element. 

Finding a small cluster of buildings so far out in the cold wasteland was far better than he had dared to hope for. He waded his way up to the shoveled yards, banging on the first door he reached. 

The old lady that answered was more weathered than the worm trees surrounding the small settlement, her eyes wary as she took in her unexpected visitor. It was nothing short of a blessing when she stepped out of his way without demanding any explanation, though his teeth’s audible and constant chattering might have had a part in her decision not to make him talk yet.

Stepping into the emery of the woman’s home hurt, Madara hissing even as he made a beeline for the roaring fire, only pausing long enough to kick some of the snow off his boots. He heard her click her tongue, though whether at his lacking manners or the trail of snow he left in his wake he couldn’t tell - nor did he really care at the moment, far too focused on biting off his gloves and slowly working feeling back into his fingers. 

Blasted cold. If he had his way he’d never deal with snow again. The gods save Izuna once Madara got his hands on him, because the brat was going to be in a world of pain for putting him through this. If they both survived this hell then Madara was going to kill him.

The weight that had been sitting in his chest grew heavier at that thought, and Madara physically shook himself to keep from letting it drown him. At least his somewhat unwilling host was willing to provide him a distraction, shuffling into the room with a thermos and a hot bowl of what smelled like stew.

“Shouldn’t test your metal in this land, boy.” Madara accepted the stew, not bothering to blow on it in a desperate attempt to stop his body’s shaking. “It’s not a kind one, not even to us folk who knew it well.”

He was a bit too preoccupied with his burnt tongue to respond, sitting against the brick fireplace - and shoving his hair off to the side to keep it from catching. The lady just stares at him for a while, a frown pulling at a rather deep scar on her cheek. It would have been unnerving if exhaustion hadn’t already rooted him to the spot, hours of trudging through too deep snow and the sudden shift to warmth making it increasingly difficult to keep his eyes open.

“What brings a hot blood like you up to these parts?”

“Is it any of your business, granny?”

“If you wanna freeze outside tonight, that’s none of my business either.”

He narrowed his eyes at her but she only scowled right back at him. Something told him the threat wasn’t empty, and it was a bit too soon after feeling had returned to his toes to test it. So he settled back against the rough brick, eyeing the rather cozy looking rocker as he did so.

“Looking for someone who came out this way.”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific, boy.”

He really didn’t like being called boy. His lip curled but he bit his tongue, not willing to bite the hand that was quite literally feeding him.

Yet, anyway.

“My brother. Supposedly he came out here a couple months back.”

“Brother, huh?” She scratched at her chin, scrutinizing him further. “Wouldn’t be referring to that well-mannered boy, would you? Long hair, dark eyes - certainly looked a fair bit like you.”

Madara huffed with laughter, though it tasted bitter with absence. “If you believe that damned brat is well-mannered, then you’re an idiot.”

“Certainly better than you and that foul mouth of yours.”

“Don’t be a prude, you old bat!” His brain caught up a moment later, backtracking to what she’d said. “You saw him then? When? Here?”

“A young man stopped in here over a month ago.” Of course Izuna got called a man instead of a boy. Madara held in his grousing, flexing his fingers to fight off the lingering tingle of cold. “He headed off north on a rumor of a shortcut.”

“Shortcut?”

The old lady stiffened a bit, crossing her arms over her chest. “A path between the mountains. He was better off going uphill or turning back. It’s no wonder you’re out looking for him.”

Something twisted at her tone, but he forced it down for now. Nothing was certain. Not until he saw the brat himself, or found him cold.

“I’ve got better things to do than listen to you speak circles.” It was a bit bitter, considering she was his best lead, but he found himself far too tired to care.

At least she didn’t seem too horribly offended, her shoulders loosening a bit while she moved to drop into her rocker. “If it’s the path he took, chances are your brother’s long gone. Maybe not dead - he’d be better off if he was.”

“What the hell are you on about?”

“You hot bloods wouldn’t know.” She shook her head, settling back into the rocker as she stared at the fire. “Your land’s too new, too young to know anything of the old world.”

“At this rate the old world’s gonna die before you tell me anything useful.”

She ignored his grumbling, one hand playing with a wood charm she had tied to her wrist. “The snow’s unnatural in these parts. Didn’t used to fall year round like it does now. It’s too heavy, sticks too well and for too long to be anything but wrong.”

Despite having no idea what she was talking about, Madara grunted in agreement. Any amount of snow thicker than a dusting was unnatural and wrong in his opinion.

“There’s something that causes it. Makes the land barren, the trees die and rot. And it takes a liking to foreigners.” She pinned him with her gaze then, something pinching her face tight. “It likes to walk that path, as a woman in white. She doesn’t spare those she finds either.”

Madara had never been one to give much credence to folklore, and he didn’t exactly plan on changing that either. The rather disbelieving stare he gave her didn’t stop the idiocy though, her tone only getting harder as if to drill it into his head.

“That brother of yours didn’t listen to my warning either, and if he hasn’t returned yet then he’s not going to.” She pushed herself up, knocking some dust off her trousers. “Better to cut your losses, even if it is a life. No use losing yours too over a ghost.”

While she meandered off to the gods only knew where, Madara finally broke into the thermos, drowning out his anger with the bitter tea therein. It was a good hour or so before she came back, looking not exactly surprised though not at all pleased when he demanded to know where the path his brother took was.

“Won’t let my mind be troubled by your nonsense.” She mumbled more but Madara tuned out the moment he had his directions, waiting for the old hag to move on somewhere else before making his way to the rocker to pass out by the fire.

It was a little surprising to wake up to a hot breakfast. Moreso even to have extra food shoved at him, as well as an extra thermos of both stew and bitter tea. Nothing that would erase the bite of cold but it would take the edge off, making leaving and facing the blasted weather a touch easier.

The path, as it turned out, was a lot easier to trek than whatever hidden roads or wilderness he’d been working his way through before. Maybe it was a trick of the weather but it felt a touch warmer the moment he found it, giving him a slight boost of energy as he followed the compact snow.

At least the wind didn’t bite nearly as bad there. The scatterings of trees had turned into a woods of sorts, most all of the plant life dead but dense enough to break the wind that had been plaguing him the day before. It meant he didn’t have to hunker in on himself nearly as much, letting him keep an eye on his surroundings better as well.

The mountains loomed there. Back in his homeland they had hills and mountains - of course they did, Fire Country was no plateau - but they were more gradual inclines, better seen in the distance. He found himself staring up with a touch of awe at how steep the frosted rock monuments were, how deadly and beautiful the drop-offs seemed.

No wonder Izuna chose the easy route. Given a choice between certain death at far too high altitudes and this walk in the park supposedly haunted by some old bat’s imagination, Madara would think anyone an idiot for choosing the former. Chances are his brother made the journey through just fine, and the brat was in the next village having too much fun.

The path stretched on, much further than he could travel in a single day. Before sundown Madara cut some dry branches off a few trees, setting a fire going while he dug a small clearing in the snow to lay in for the night.

Morning found him cold and sore, but there was nothing to be done about that. He still groused at his popping joints, deciding to eat on the go so as to warm up on the move.

It was just becoming afternoon when he saw the first hint of life in the forsaken land around him. He paused midstep, rubbing at his eyes to focus them better, half convinced he’d hallucinated the movement just beyond the treeline.

That had to be what was happening. No one would be out here, let alone off the path, so the white figure was merely a projection brought on by boredom and that blasted story worm digging in his brain.

“Are you well, traveler?”

His projection was talking. The figure pushed past a few low hanging branches - the man, actually, not really a white figure at all. Only the fur around his shoulders was white, though his hair came close, and his skin was near pale enough to blend into the snow. No wonder he’d hardly noticed him.

“Fine.” The grunted answer came a bit too late to not be awkward. At least it was justified, since the man had near startled him when he appeared out of nowhere.

“Ahh, good.” Weird that the man looked legitimately relieved at the news, but Madara didn’t get much time to ponder on that. “If you’re headed east, you should take care. An avalanche has made the path rather dangerous.”

“Avalanche? When did that happen?”

“It was a few weeks back, but it’s difficult to clear.” Something must have shown on Madara’s face despite his best efforts because the other stepped closer, concern pinching his brows together. “Perhaps you might fair better with company? I know a safe enough route through.”

Not exactly what he’d been worried about, but it would probably be safer all the same. He grunted in lieu of an answer, eyeing the strange man - and noting that even with his fur he was hardly dressed for the weather.

“How are you not freezing?”

The man’s too casual shrug only made him look a touch suspicious. “I travel a lot here. Rather used to the weather.”

Whatever suspicion about the man’s lack of temperature understanding was tossed out in an instant, a light tug of hope latching onto the first statement. “Run into a lot of folks out here?”

“A few.” His focus didn’t go unnoticed, the man asking, “Are you looking for someone?”

“Yes. My brother, he went this way a little over a month ago. Long hair, not as messy as mine, bit shorter than me-”

“Izuna?”

His breath caught at the name. “You’ve seen him?”

“This morning, actually.”

Relief hit him harder than he’d thought it would at the news. After weeks of not knowing the dark suspicions had tried their best to creep in, and knowing that he’d get that chance to throttle the brat again was almost enough to make him sway on the spot. “He made it to the village then.”

“Well, no.” The man pursed his lips, pointing off towards some place in the woods. “He’s been at my home. I found him shortly after the avalanche, and even the safe route I’ve found through would be rather treacherous on a broken leg.”

“Oh, of course the idiot broke something.” He shifted his pack a bit, the weight pulling at his hair. 

“He’s healing well - you’re welcome to come see him.”

At that, they left the path behind, picking their way through the snow and trees. On the way Madara learned the man’s name - Tobirama - and that he lived alone out here year round.

Madara suspected he must be a hermit of sorts, but didn’t say anything. Better a crazed hermit than an old bat with her fairy tales - though that was assuming the crazed hermit would be feeding him too.

His home was a larger than average cabin, mossy and honestly not all that inviting. But Madara didn’t care all that much over how homely it might feel, just managing to check himself and not rush past him through the door.

“You’re out of jerky!”

His brother’s voice came from somewhere in the cabin, and any thought of manners went out the window.

The room he was in looked to serve multiple purposes, one of which being a kitchen. It mattered little at the moment beyond noting that the brat was searching through the cabinets like it was his own home, a piece of bread stuck in his mouth as he did so.

And somehow the old hag had believed him to have manners.

“Could you be any more of a leech?”

The wide-eyed stare he got when Izuna whipped around made him bark with laughter. Izuna tried to say something without removing the bread from his mouth and failed miserably - Madara marched over to rip it away, back to scowling at the idiot.

“What are you, five?”

“How are you even here?”

“I have my ways.” His cryptic tone earned him the stink eye but he didn’t feel like explaining. Not like the brat needed to know exactly how much he’d been worried over him.

That being said, he had promised himself a well-earned throttling, though he’d feel a bit bad killing his brother while he had a broken leg. So Madara settled for pulling him into a headlock instead, snarling as Izuna tried to push his arms away.

“How in the hell do you always managed to do this? First your wrist, then your foot, and now your whole damned leg - it’s not everyone else’s job to take care of you! Next time make it your neck so I only have one mess to take care of!”

“Alright, alright, I get it! Shove off!”

“Don’t tell me to shove off, I swear I will end you.”

“Kindly not in my house, please.”

It was a bit embarrassing to admit he’d forgotten about their host of sorts. Madara blinked over at Tobirama, who for his part looked a bit unsure of how to react to the two brothers. He saved him the trouble by letting Izuna go, clearing his throat.

“You shouldn’t have had to take care of him - he’s my mess to handle.”

“I’m my own mess, thank you very much.”

The snark earned him a smack atop his head, Madara eyeing him for a second before turning back to Tobirama. “You saved his life, and for that I owe you.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Madara had no plans of worrying over it at all. Figuring out how he’d pay the man back could come later, however; he shamelessly took a bite out of the bread he’d snatched from his brother, grateful to calm his rather empty stomach.

“Are you gonna feed us or not?”

Madara didn’t bother correcting his brother’s behavior this time, even letting him get away with the stupid cheeky grin. At least his poor manners got them both food a half hour later, the brothers crowding up near a fire with some hot stew while their host puttered off elsewhere.

“How’d you manage to break it anyway?”

Izuna tossed a hunk of bread into his bowl to let it soak up the broth. “Avalanche. Don’t ever let anyone tell you mountains can’t roar.” He took a moment to chew on a bit of vegetable that Madara couldn’t name, his nose wrinkling a bit as he did so. “The snow knocked me over - hell, it buried me for a hot minute. Or a cold minute, whichever.”

“He saved your life.”

“Oh yeah, I was toast. Well, not toast, more like an ice cycle-”

“I get it, it’s cold!” Madara scooted closer to the fire, sending a quick and nasty look towards the front door. “Tobirama said he knows a safe route to the next village. With his help, I should be able to get you there.”

“Doesn’t sound very safe.”

“With two people not even your dead weight shouldn’t be too terrible.”

“Aww, I miss you too.”

Madara firmly ignored that, poking at the fire instead. “You were headed to that village, right?”

“Yup. Shouldn’t take too long to find that damned scroll either.”

“Wait, you made me track your ass over a scroll?”

Izuna gave him a far too innocent look over that. “We talked before I left about this.”

“You’ll be lucky if I don’t make you eat that scroll.” Madara grumbled a bit more after that, jabbing at a chunk of some sort of meat in his stew. They bickered back and forth for a while; eventually, Izuna moved to stretch out on the sofa, wincing a bit as he rubbed at a sore spot on his leg.

“Madara?”

He looked up at his name, finding Tobirama standing just outside the room. The man nodded as if telling Madara to follow him, and he had half a mind not to since the fire was so warm. Still he pushed himself up, following Tobirama to another part of the house.

“I don’t have a guest room, though I figured you’d be fine staying near the fire.” Tobirama stopped to pick through a closet, pulling out a few quilts. “Might have to shake them out a bit but it’s better than just the floor.”

“How’d you even lug all this stuff out here?”

“I’ve been here a while.”

Madara was beginning to suspect Tobirama was one of those infuriating types that always answered a different question than the one posed. He ignored that for now, half turning to stare back towards the living area. “I’d like to get my idiot to the village.”

Tobirama pursed his lips. “Give me a couple of days and I’ll help. The rest from travel might do you some good anyway.”

That, Madara couldn’t argue with. Either that or he didn’t have the energy to. He grunted and made off back to the fire, making sure to beat some of the dust off his quilts near Izuna’s head before tossing them down as a makeshift bed.

For the most part, Izuna and Madara were left to their own devices the next few days. Tobirama popping in every now and then but never staying long - something Izuna told him was typical for his stay there at the very least. It was odd but ultimately unconcerning, and Madara contented himself to hole up next to the fireplace and ransack whatever he could find in the food cupboards.

After a few days of hardly seeing their host, Tobirama surprised them one morning with a hot breakfast and good news for their journey.

“The path is mostly clear to the village - barring another avalanche, we should be safe to leave today.”

“Thought the snow would stick longer.” Not that he was going to complain. Sooner he got Izuna to the village the better, no matter that he’d be coming right back.

Within the hour they left the cabin, Madara supporting Izuna’s weight while Tobirama led them back through the trees towards the path.

Those few short days huddled up next to the fire had spoiled Madara. He was glad for his brother’s heat to help stave off the cold - not that he would ever admit it - but it was a special sort of hell watching how easily Tobirama handled it.

The man was something else. His ears and hands were uncovered yet his fingers remained deft, and if Madara hadn’t known any better he could have sworn his breath didn’t even mist in front of him.

Old bats and cold ass hermits. This land made no sense to him.

With Izuna’s injury and Madara unused to lugging an extra 120 lbs around, they were forced to make camp - much earlier than any of them would’ve liked as well. Madara stayed close enough to the campfire that it felt as if his lips might crack.

Tobirama didn’t stay near the fire, content enough to apparently freeze to death - though he was still very much alive and breathing come morning all the same.

They stopped again a little passed noon, Tobirama coming to a halt in front of them to point down the path. “It will take you straight to the village. Just continue on until you reach the gate.”

‘What, you’re not coming?”

He shook his head. “There’s little need for a guide from here. You should be there by sundown at the latest.”

Madara readjusted his grip on his brother, giving him a single nod in thanks. Izuna snarked something about wanting better food next time but they both ignored him, Tobirama heading back home while the two brothers trudged onward towards the village.

Sure enough they reached their destination by nightfall, finding a room at the inn. It was considerably warmer in the village than it had been between the mountains, enough that even without a fire in the room they both were comfortable without all the layers they’d been bundled up in constantly.

There were several topics that needed to be discussed between them, but Madara let them have this night in peace - too tired to even pretend that it was only for his own sake and not for Izuna as well.

He didn’t spare them with the same courtesy the next morning, pinning Izuna into an hours’ long discussion on their plans for the future. By the end of it Madara was equal parts relieved and frustrated, heading to the innkeeper to book the room for the next couple of weeks.

The next day his own bags were packed, Izuna watching him from the bed he’d commandeered.

“Are you really going back?”

“What other choice is there?”

“I don’t know, maybe not going?”

Madara threw his travel medkit at his brother, a little harder than necessary. “You can’t exactly clean up your own mess with that blasted injury, can you?”

“But you’ve got no reason to go back!” Izuna tossed the medkit to the side. “You’ll just end up freezing to death, you know.”

“Our ancestors would be rolling in their graves if they heard you.” Madara flung his pack over one shoulder, going over his mental checklist to make sure he’d not forgotten anything. “I, at least, give a fuck about honor.”

“They’re dead, probably just bones by now. Who cares what a bunch of old dusty skeletons think.”

“You should! Now, try not to die before I get back.” Madara didn’t delay his departure any more than that, slamming the door to block out whatever retort Izuna was trying to spit back at him.

It took a little more than two days to reach his destination of sorts, his travel slowed by a sudden bout of snow. Even without having to drag Izuna’s weight around it was terribly slow going, and he didn’t even have a thermos of tea or stew to keep him warm for the first hour either.

Once he was around what he believed to be the right part of the woods, mountains and pines alike looming overhead, he hesitated. It looked to be the right spot but he couldn’t really be sure without searching the woods, and he’d wandered through enough of them in his lifetime to know how easy it was to lose one’s bearings in them.

If he was still in Fire Country, he’d probably try his luck. But with sunset only an hour or two away, and the snow blurring his vision until everything looked the gods damned same, it sounded more like a death wish than anything else.

Camp it was, then. He dug a clear patch into the snow and found enough dry wood to make a decent fire, settling in for the night and letting the steady crackle of flames lull him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Stepping into the emery of the woman’s home" - I'm rereading this after I posted it, just to edit typos, and this one is so wild I don't even know what I was going for. So I'm leaving it and its mystery up for everyone to see


	2. Chapter 2

Madara woke up to the fire still burning hot, just at the edge of unbearable where he lay facing it. A bit surprising since it was passed dawn, and as far as he could tell he hadn’t woken up at any point to poke it and keep it going.

Places this cold were dangerous. He could’ve slipped off in his sleep and no one would’ve been the wiser.

“I’ve got some food if you’re hungry.”

Madara nearly jumped out of his own skin at the sound of Tobirama’s voice. At it was his hand ended up burnt, the coals burning straight through the palm of his glove when he pushed himself up suddenly.

“Gods, what- how-”

At least the damned hermit looked apologetic, giving a small and almost sheepish smile from where he was settled in the snow a good dozen feet away. “I hadn’t meant to scare you, just wanted-”

“You didn’t scare me, I only jumped. A little.” He ripped off the now practically useless glove to get a good look at the burn. It wasn’t the worst he’d had - really, it only smarted a bit. The frost from lacking a glove would do more damage to him than the coals had.

“I didn’t expect you to be out this way again so soon. Did you both make it safely to the village?”

“Dumped the brat off there, yeah.” He got up to stretch, wincing at how loud his bones popped. This whole mess had probably aged him a good decade, between the stress and sleeping on the cold ground so often. “You said something about food, didn’t you?”

“Yes, though it’s not hot.” Tobirama seemed to hesitate for a moment, then he got up as well, grabbing a bit of dried meat and bread from a pack he had nearby. As soon as he shared some with Madara he backed away from the fire, giving it a look Madara couldn’t read.

Not that he tried too hard to. Food was a blessed distraction from the cold even if it wasn’t hot or warm. Once he’d stuffed it all down he stretched a bit more, warming his back at the fire as he turned towards his company.

“Guess I wasn’t too far off if you found me.”

“Too far off?” Tobirama cocked his head, the snow falling around them but never sticking to his hair or fur.

“This whole wasteland looks the gods damned same!” Madara scoffed as he knocked some snow off himself. “The walk felt about right though. Now, which way’s your house?”

He had to stare at Tobirama for a moment before he would answer, and even then it was just with a jab of his thumb off towards the forest. Madara waited a few moments to see if the man would get the hint, before coming over to shoo him on. 

“Don’t expect me to lead the way, I’m not your guide!”

“Are...are you coming home with me then?” The idiot actually sounded confused on the matter, and Madara all but shoved him forward because of it. 

“Yes, why else would I be asking about where you lived? Not like anyone else will need the directions.”

“But. Why are you coming to my house? Are you injured?”

“No, but my brother was.” Tobirama’s brows furrowed further at that, but before he could ask anything else Madara gave him another firm shove towards the woods. “Sometime today, hermit. I’d like to get the freezing bit over with.”

At least that got the man moving. Madara really hadn’t been that far off his estimation either, since it took them little time at all to reach the cabin. There was no fire going when they got inside, but Madara remedied that immediately, his non-gloved hand burning and stiff as he ripped up kindling and poked and prodded at the wood and paper until he deemed the fire sufficiently well built enough to last.

“Madara.”

As he had last time Madara had been there, Tobirama stayed only at the edge of the room, far away from the fire. His lips were pinched together but he didn’t exactly looked displeased, only as if he didn’t know what to make of the situation.

“You really don’t like being warm, do you?” That had to be part of it, since the hermit was staring at the fire, keeping his distance. But Tobirama never seemed to like answering his questions, his gaze flickering up to meet his.

“I don’t mind having company, so you’re more than welcome to be here. But may I ask why you were- were you looking for me?”

“Who else would I be looking for out here?” He paused for a second, a bit of disgust wrinkling his nose. “Are there other hermits out here? How many lunatics have decided to die out here in this blasted place?”

“There used to be more...people like me.” Tobirama shifted his weight a bit, one hand coming up to play with the ends of his fur. “As far as I’m aware of, your chances of running into anyone else out here is very slim. Especially if you stick around me.”

“I have little interest in meeting more crazy hermits - I’m here to repay you, not them.”

“We’re not exactly herm-” Tobirama cut himself off with a frown, his brows pinching together. “What do you mean, you’re here to ‘repay’ me?”

“I told you, Izuna’s my brat to look after.” He shrugged, taking a second to roll his shoulders to alleviate some of the soreness. “I owe you his life, and I don’t plan to let that hang over my head for long.”

“You don’t owe me-”

“Yes, I do.” Tobirama looked as if he might protest further but Madara didn’t let him, crossing the room to poke at the man’s chest. “Look, the Uchiha might not be a family of soldiers like it used to be, but we still take life debts seriously. Like it or not, I’m going to repay you.”

“This sounds more like a punishment than a payment.”

Tobirama’s grumbled complaint was hardly going to change his mind on the matter, however. Whether the man wanted him there or not Madara was going to make sure he repaid the debt owed.

Not that he really knew how to go about repaying that debt. Madara stood about awkwardly for a few minutes, as Tobirama did the same. Owing life debts made a lot more sense for his ancestors, he imagined, when they were still warriors and soldiers. He’d been in a few brawls in his own lifetime but none had truly been life threatening, and from what he’d seen of the hermit he doubted it’d come down to an life-for-a-life payment.

He ended up thinking on the debt for days, holed up in the cabin while its owner went about his business. Watching the fire and thinking quickly lost its luster though, and he shameless poked around the rooms, finding most of them a bit too filled with dust for his liking. One looked lived in enough for him to assume it was Tobirama’s personal bedroom, and a peek inside told him exactly why the hallway was so blasted freezing all the time - the idiot had left his window wide open, and had probably been doing so every day from the feel of the cabin.

Madara marched right in and fixed that issue, ignoring the rest of the room before shutting it back up. Poking about his hall closets was one thing; he had no need to poke about the hermit’s undergarments.

At least the closets held some bounty for him. Shifting through them uncovered some rather pricey looking furs, and further rummaging rewarded him with a weighty cloak. The material was thick, and the large collar looked similar to the fur Tobirama wore around his neck all the time. It was perhaps a bit long on Madara but that hardly mattered with such clothing, and he set it aside for use later. There was a chance it would make an even better blanket than the old quilts Tobirama had thrown at him his first visit.

By the time Tobirama returned for the night, Madara had bored himself into a state, poking at the fire a little too harshly. Days of waiting around for nothing, thinking about something he had no answer to, with nothing but the howling wind and empty cabin to keep him company - he turned to confront Tobirama as soon as he’d shut the door, ignoring the man’s owlish blinking as he did so.

“You have to have something in mind for me to repay you.”

Tobirama made a rather confused noise, scooting a bit further away from the fire. “I really don’t.” When Madara moved to prevent him from slipping away, he shot an unreadable look towards the fire place, shifting his weight. “You could always, ahhh. Clean?”

“I’m not your maid, clean your own damned house!”

“Why am I supposed to come up with a payment? You’re the one insisting I need one.” He managed to slip past Madara but didn’t go far, just to the edge of the room. “I’d be happy enough to let the ‘debt’ go.”

“I’m paying back the life debt, so get over it.” His lip curled when he looked back at the door, wanting to groan even as he threw out his own option. “Could always help with...whatever it is you’re up to out there every day.”

“No.” The harsh answer made Madara blink back at him, admittedly a bit irked at the tone. But before he could respond Tobirama continued, his jaw set hard against the idea. “You’re not coming with me. What I do is dangerous, and the last thing I need is to have to watch after you out there.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means stay here.” Tobirama left him there sputtering near the doorway, his voice carrying back down the hall a minute later with an order to keep his window open as well.

Being ordered about had never sit well with Madara. Once he finished with most of his fuming he settled back to jab at the fire some more, eyeing the cloak he’d planned to use as a blanket. Just because the hermit was more used to the cold didn’t mean he was better than Madara - if he could do...whatever it was out there, Madara could do it too.


	3. Chapter 3

The sun had barely managed to peek up over the horizon when Tobirama was leaving the cabin, a fresh burst of freezing air filling the room as he left. It left Madara shivering even under his quilts, glaring over at the fire that had sunk to embers sometime during the night.

Mornings had never agreed with him. He still forced himself to roll off the sofa, becoming a huddled up grumbling pile of quilt and hair as he stroked the fire back to life, building it up until he could feel his fingers and toes again.

Taking so long to get going meant he’d have little to track Tobirama with. It was a stroke of luck then that the snow had slowed, leaving most of his footprints visible enough to follow. With the borrowed cloak most of the chill was fought off as well, and it was with minimal grumbling that Madara set off outside, leaving the warmth of the cabin behind.

Several different sets of footprints led him off into the woods, most of which stuck close to one another, some faded and nearly invisible. It was a safe enough assumption that they were all Tobirama’s from different days since he’d seen no others out this way, and it only made him more curious as to what the man had been up to out in the woods for all hours of the mornings and evenings.

The snow crunched underfoot as he followed the trail, pines and dead trees thick around him, the thin needles and empty branches allowing the sun to light his path. A woodpecker rattled away in the distance, the only other sound to accompany his huffed breaths and the snow beneath, the whole of the woods eerie in its quiet.

He missed Fire Country. The birdsong, the annoying buzz of insects, squirrels and deer and howling coyotes. Sure, there was more out that way that could kill him but it never quite felt like danger when he was in his own forests, walking his own paths, following the trees that he’d climbed and cut marks into when he was barely out of the single digits.

Would Tobirama have done the same? He paused under a particularly tall pine, tilting his head back to see the top. Just how long had he lived out here? Long enough to have grown up in these woods, to have climbed the trees and sat in awe at how far he could see?

He shook his head a bit, cracking his neck before trudging onwards. Not that it mattered if he had or not - it wasn’t Madara’s business to learn any more than absolutely necessary about his rather unwilling host.

Eventually, the trail petered off, splitting off and fading until he was left staring at nothing not knowing when, exactly, he’d lost it. If the sun was anything to go by it took a good hour before he found it again, and by then snow clouds had rolled in and shadowed the way forward. He sneered upwards, his breath misting, the cold taking all feeling from his legs. No matter that it was safer to turn back, it felt a little like defeat, and it left Madara in a foul mood the entire walk back.

It came as no surprise when he returned long before Tobirama, though the other did bring a pleasant enough surprise with him: fresh meat in the form of a few snow rabbits, big enough to make a decent pot of stew. Madara got a feeling that if he stayed long in this damned country he’d get ill at even the thought of stew but for now he was eager enough to have seconds, hunkered back up at his fireplace while listening to Tobirama busy himself elsewhere in the cabin.

Quitting wasn’t in his blood. The next morning found him grumbling once more at the dying fire as Tobirama let cold air fill the room, Madara wasting just enough time to warm back up his digits before trying to track him once more.

It ended just as fruitlessly as his first attempt, a snowstorm rolling in after the first hour. Madara was a stubborn man but he knew better than to fight against nature - at least so far out of his element - so he turned back quickly, building as big a fire as he dared and settled in to wait for his host.

The storm raged. Wind rattling the door, snow piling and piling around the cabin. After only a few hours Madara had to get up, pacing in front of the fireplace, barely able to tear his eyes away from the front door.

No amount of hermit experience could make being out in that storm safe. He stopped pacing to go peer out the window, seeing flashes of lighting in the dark clouds above. A lightning snow storm. Something he’d never heard of and that only made his teeth grind harder, squinting to try and spot any hint of Tobirama in the short distance he could see.

His breath fogging up the window wasn’t helping. Really, keeping a look out for him wasn’t helping either. Madara groaned, throwing his head back to glare up at the cobwebs tangled around each other on the ceiling. Freezing to death wasn’t exactly on his bucket list, but there was little he could do to help stuck in the blasted cabin. And he _did_ owe Tobirama a life debt.

But how would he even find him? His neck creaked a bit when he looked back out the window; all he could see was white, shadows that looked like trees, and more white. For all he knew the bastard was right in the front yard and just blended in with the rest of the white mess.

Good will or ancestral pride couldn’t help him in that storm. It rankled but Madara went back to his pacing, knowing full well he couldn’t help anyone before dying out there himself - and death meant the life debt would forever go unpaid.

He was kneeling down, jabbing angrily at the fire, when the cabin door opened. The gust of wind blew his hair and nearly caused it to catch fire, Madara swearing as he tried to shove it back over his shoulders, falling back on his arse away from the fire.

A chuckle from the doorway had him glaring over at Tobirama - only to balk at the man, baffled by his appearance.

“How do you- there’s _feet_ of snow out there!”

“Yes?” Tobirama slipped the fur off of his shoulders, shaking his hair a bit to let it fall back into its proper place - that in and of itself was entirely unfair, in Madara’s opinion, but he chose to ignore that for now to focus on more important issues. Like the fact that Tobirama had survived a snow storm, one that had dumped feet of snow on the forest in only a few hours. And had come back looking entirely untouched by the snow.

“What, do you walk on top of the snow or something?”

His host looked down at his feet, tapping his shoes on the floor. “Not in these boots, no, though I think the villagers have some that let them walk on top of it.”

Madara had to wrestle some more with his hair then, fighting it back where it had tried to wrap around his neck. And when he turned to snark back at his host the hermit was gone, off to rattle about the kitchen for food or drink or something of the sort.

Normally, if a couple days’ habit could be called normal, Madara would let him go about his business without bothering him. But the storm had put him on edge, and not being able to track the bastard on top of that made him just irritated enough to stomp off after him, finding Tobirama setting up another pot of stew to feed them over the next day or so.

“Where do you even go off to?”

Tobirama’s brows were pinched together when he glanced over at him, his hands busy cutting up vegetables, fingers deft as if they hadn’t been out in the cold for hours on end. “During the day, I’m usually making sure the path is clear. But I, ahhh. Travel a bit off of it as well. Why do you ask?”

“Do you have any idea how _dangerous_ it is out there in that storm?” Tobirama gave him a look then that reminded him a bit of Izuna, as if the damned bastard thought he knew better than Madara did. It made him huff a bit, and he had to suppress the rather childish urge to stomp his foot. “How exactly am I supposed to keep you safe if you go off alone all the time in that shit?”

“Madara,” the knife and vegetable he was cutting up were put down, Tobirama turning to face him with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, “I don’t _need_ protection, first off. You’re the one insisting on repaying this debt, not me, and if you use your head for once you’ll remember that _I’m_ the one used to living out here. And secondly, it wasn’t storming when I left - at least get your facts straight before getting all snippy with me.”

“ _I’m not getting snippy_ .” He snapped his head to the side, ignoring how snapping that at him had proved his point. Well, one of his points. The others didn’t really _need_ proving, since they both knew Tobirama was right.

Not that he was going to admit that. He crossed his own arms, puffing his chest up a bit before he spoke. “Even if you’ve lived here for decades, you could still be taken by surprise by something. Like a falling tree. Or a snow slide. And having someone out there with you could prevent you dying from it.”

“…you’re not gonna let this go, are you?” Tobirama pinched the bridge of his nose, having to wipe his face off afterward from where his fingers were dirty. “Look, I’ll make you a deal. You can go with me but only while I’m on the path. If I have to go into the woods for any reason, you _stick on the path_ and _do not follow me_.”

“I’m not a dog, hermit.”

“And I don’t have to let you tag along at all.” Tobirama turned back to his prep work, scratching at his nose with his shoulder. “That’s the deal, Madara. Either stick to the path while with me, waiting for me when I leave it, or don’t come with me at all.”

Madara sneered at his back a bit as he chopped the vegetables but eventually left him to it, wandering back to the warmth of the fire to take out some of his anger on it. The storm rattled the door in its hinges but he paid it no mind now, grumbling up under his blankets to wait for the stew to be done. With any luck, the storm would pass over them sometime in the night, and he could finally start trying to repay the debt by morning.


	4. Chapter 4

Heading out to the path with Tobirama proved to be no more exciting than sitting in the cabin and poking at the fire all morning. It was true to say that Madara enjoyed quiet, probably more than the average individual, but growing up with a chatterbox of a little brother meant that it still felt _ off _ for it to be completely silent between him and his guide/guardee.

Teeth grinding against the cold and irritation, Madara hunched over himself to glare at the back of Tobirama’s head, who rudely seemed not to notice Madara’s increasingly sour mood. The snow had piled up over the course of the storm and the crunch of fresh snow underfoot was starting to pick at his brain, making him step harder - and in turn making his coming migraine even worse.

Complete quiet never meant anything good. Not with conniving siblings, not in the woods, and not when Madara already felt his sanity slipping from being stuck in a wasteland with someone who woke up at the ass crack of dawn to shovel snow off a path only five people used annually -  _ if _ that many.

And for someone who supposedly shoveled snow for a living, the hermit sure seemed like he didn’t know a lick about it. At first he’d just stared at the path for a few minutes, peeking over at his companion as if he didn’t want to be  _ seen _ looking over at him, and then just. Squatted down and started moving the snow. With his bare hands.

The only bright spot in Madara’s whole day so far had been the look of indignation from Tobirama when he’d wapped him right in the face with some gloves. That bright spot was getting ever duller the more the day dragged on though, and with his only pair of gloves being used to protect Tobirama’s fingers from frost bite he was left on watch duty - watch duty being watching the man bend over and straighten back up enough times to make Madara’s own back and knees groan in sympathetic protest.

Not that he should be sympathizing. The crazed man apparently  _ chose _ to live like this, so let him tear up his joints.

“Is this really what you do all day? How have you not keeled over out of sheer boredom?”

Tobirama had knelt done for the umpteenth time when Madara spoke up, flipping his hair to keep the bangs out of his eyes as he pushed the snow off the path. “It usually goes faster.” The words reeked of complaint, groused out while he pushed himself back up and sent a look to Madara that he couldn’t read.

For whatever reason, Madara felt like he might be being blamed for something. Not that he had any clue what it might have been. He still huffed about it, more than a little peeved when Tobirama scooted a bit further down the path without explaining himself any more than that, getting to work shoveling away with his hands.

“You know, an actual shovel would probably do better.”

Tobirama sent a withering look over his shoulder, as if after only a few short sentences he was already done speaking with him. “I don’t  _ need _ a shovel, and if you weren’t-” He cut himself off, turning back to his snow with an aggravated huff, leaving Madara to glare at his back some more.

A single morning spent watching Tobirama shove snow around with his hands felt like a lifetime, and by the time noon came Madara was eyeing a rather large drift of the cold shit wondering how long it might take to freeze himself out there. He was so busy contemplating putting himself out of his own misery that he didn’t even realize how still his company had gotten, missing the full body stiffening as Tobirama stared off the path into the woods, his eyes hardening and fists clenched at his sides.

“Madara.” His head whipped around at his name, hair catching in his mouth and preventing him from snapping in his ever growing frustration. “Remember what I said. Do not stray even a foot off the path until I return.”

“I’m still not your dog, you damned-  _ don’t just walk away from me _ !”

He most certainly did not stomp his foot as Tobirama left him there. He did huff and hurl a few curses his way, pointing a rather aggressive finger in his direction until he remembered he didn’t have any gloves on - and promptly shoved his already freezing hand right back into his pocket, huddling back into the cloak he’d all but claimed as his own at that point.

If standing around and watching Tobirama play in the snow had been boring, standing around on the path alone was sheer torture. It was cold, and his hair was wet from the few bits of snow that had fallen through out the morning, making him even colder. Not to mention sleeping on the sofa for so many nights had left his back a mess, having to walk funny through the thick drifts had his legs sore, all his joints were protesting being in such gods awful weather - he rolled his eyes at his own grumbling thoughts, shoving some of the path clean with one foot just to do something.

His idiot brother always told him he’d been born with an old man’s spirit. When had he gotten the body of an old man then?

The wind picked up behind him, sending his hair right over his shoulders and into his face. After a bit of wrestling and cursing he managed to be able to see again, turning to glare off in the direction Tobirama had wandered off in - which was also the direction the wind had come from.

He blinked at that, frowning at the thicket of trees in front of him now, the wind still making his bangs get in the way of his vision. The mountains loomed over the forest in front of him, casting a shadow over the pines and dead oaks, making even the snow look dead without the light shinning on it.

No wind should have been able to reach him through all of that.

By the time Tobirama made his way back to him, a good hour or so had passed - and with it had gone Madara’s anger, replaced with something that had his back shivering not just from the cold. For the rest of their time out on the path that afternoon, he didn’t outwardly complain, keeping track of the trees in his periphery though he saw not a hint of movement or any reason to watch the woods at all.

Caution in the wild had kept him alive so far. No matter that being so wary when everything around him was dead made him question his own sanity - if something in his bones was telling him to be careful, he was going to listen to them.

For once, Tobirama was the irritable one that night. When they set off for the cabin he sent a heated glare down the path at all the snow he was having to leave there, and for a split second his glare settled on Madara as well - but then he was changing course for home, and the promise of warmth called to Madara much more strongly than any sort of argument out here in the freezing cold.

The next day out on the path passed much more quickly, and with no less grumbling. As a matter of fact, the next week or so passed in relative similarity: every morning, Tobirama would get up at the ass crack of dawn, and Madara would roll off the couch to pop off outside with him, the thick cloak shielding him from the wind as he watched the hermit shovel the snow away inch by agonizingly slow inch.

He did not leave him on the path as he had that first day. Nor had Madara felt the need to watch their surroundings so carefully again, finding himself relaxing into the still infuriating rhythm of their routine.

With his gloves thrown at Tobirama’s stubborn face every morning, all he could do to even semi help was kick at the snow a bit. It actually kept his mood a bit higher when he did so, though he made sure to mostly do it whenever Tobirama seemed too busy on his own piles to notice him kicking it around. No need for him to know he was getting any sort of childish enjoyment out of the small act of violence.

“How long have you been doing this again?”

It wasn’t the first outburst he’d had while tagging along, but it was the first in a few days that was directed  _ at _ his companion. Who didn’t even look up from where he was crouched down and busying himself, just wiping his cheek against the fur draped over his shoulder and drawling out, “What, already lost track of time? Thought you were wilderness savvy.”

“Not today, you damned idiot! I meant, in general. How long have you been wasting your life away pushing snow around  _ with your hands _ ?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Tobirama stopped his work to scowl over his shoulder at him, his nose twitching ever so slightly. “Was it a Monday or a Tuesday that you started stalking me out here?”

“ _ I’m not a _ -” Madara forced himself to take a deep breath, turning his back to the infuriating man to keep from throwing something at him. Since the only thing around them was just  _ more snow _ , that’s likely what it would have been, and losing a finger to frostbite later for it wouldn’t exactly help improve his mood.

Fine. If he didn’t want to answer that question, he’d just poke at him about something else. He stuck his hands up closer to his armpits, glaring up at some darker clouds he saw trying to move in to the area. So help him, they’d better not be bringing another storm their way.

“When did you decide to move out into the middle of no where, anyway?”

“I’ve always lived in this country.”

He saw Tobirama moving in his periphery, inching on down the path to clear off more snow. “Yeah, okay, but when did you move  _ here _ ?”

Tobirama’s movements halted for a split second, just long enough to be noticeable, and Madara couldn’t help but narrow his eyes over at him.

“It was… I’ve spent a little less of half my life here, but I’ve known the area since birth.”

“And your family then?”

Tobirama didn’t answer at first. And when he did, he made sure to stand up first, brushing the snow off his knees and looking Madara dead in the eye as he spoke to him. “Pray you never meet them.”

All he could do was stare after him as he walked on off towards the cabin once more, apparently done for the day despite having ample sun hours left. Cryptic would have to be added to the words that could describe the damned hermit, then. Madara huffed after a minute or so, setting off after Tobirama before the man could fully get out of his line of sight.

Guess that meant his family was still about, and in those parts as well. He scanned the forest around him thoughtfully, straining in vain to see if he could catch a glimpse of some smoke or man-made clearly - any hint or evidence where they might be living.

Then again… His gaze shifted just a touch upwards, to the sheer mountain cliffs and the jagged rocks capped off with white. If Tobirama was crazy, there was always the chance it ran in his blood. Maybe there were some other Tobirama-likes hiding up in the mountains, up there terrorizing and creeping out hikers that were scared off away from the easy path by crotchety old wise tales.

He snorted, pushing passed some of the low hanging branches that blocked him from Tobirama’s front yard. Old wise tales, indeed. They were more idiotic and useless than any sort of wisdom he’d come across in his days. Murderous women in white, haunting a trail that no one had any reason to be on in the first place.

The sooner he could pay up on this debt, the better. Then he could collect his idiot and head back to his own country, where at least their idiotic stories weren’t hidden in all that cryptic, supernatural garbage.


End file.
